


Rescue Me

by elitejace452



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint Barton-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Psychological Torture, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats of Violence, Torture, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23524426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elitejace452/pseuds/elitejace452
Summary: Being human doesn’t make him weaker.  Being human doesn’t make him weaker.  A mantra Clint will repeat until they come for him, wait, who are they? Clint's kidnapped and held for information that he can't possibly give up.  What will the Avengers do to get the archer back?!!TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL ASSAULT & TORTURE!!
Comments: 10
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: kidnapping, beating/torture

“You can make this so much easier on yourself, if you just tell me what I need to know.” The woman’s voice was dripping with a fake sweetness that would normally have made Clint roll his eyes if they weren’t both almost swollen shut. She gripped his face, pressing her fingers on each side of Clint’s mouth, forcing his lips to pucker as she squeezed. “Just tell me.” 

“You can burn in hell.” Clint spit back, his voice so low it was almost a growl. She had been using him for boxing practice for the last three hours. She had a similar striking pattern to Nat’s, so he assumed that she was Russian or at least trained by the Russians. She’d focused her harsh hits on his exposed chest, abdomen and his face. His shirt had been torn roughly off of him and was crumpled in the corner where it had been thrown. He didn't think any ribs were broken yet, but they were definitely bruised. He could already see the black and blues painting across his chest in a macabre pattern. A couple good punches weren’t going to break him though. His entire life had been training him to get through worse beatings than this. 

“I’m going to make you wish you were in hell.” Her eyes narrowed as she squeezed his face even tighter, sending tinges of pain all around Clint’s face. She slammed the palm of her hand straight into Clint’s nose, at an upward angle as Clint saw stars as she reeled back and repeated the motion. He heard a alarming snap and knew that his nose had just broken. Blood came gushing out of each nostril, dripping into his mouth and down onto his shirt. He just had to hold out a little while longer, just until the rest of the Avengers got here. 

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“Anyone seen birdbrain?” Tony called out as he used his pointer fingers to expand the blueprints for his latest design on the Starkpad in front of him. He had been working on Clint’s bow for the last few days. He had had a few ideas but wanted to run them by Clint first since it was his bow. The other Avengers were scattered around the common area, enjoying a quiet afternoon before their mission debrief. Natasha was sitting with Wanda at the breakfast table, showing her something in a book that had Wanda nodding energetically. Steve had a physical newspaper in his hands. Tony smiled to himself at the old-fashioned soldier’s habits. Steve appreciated the internet and the instantaneous news that he got from it, but he never passed up an opportunity to read a printed newspaper. Sam had headphones in, listening to a podcast. The volume was low enough that he could hear the conversation around him if he was needed. Rhodey was having a discussion with Vision about proper etiquette when it came to first dates, a concept that Vision was struggling with if Rhodey’s gestures were anything to go off of. 

“He should be here by now.” Natasha frowned said after she looked down at her watch. Clint was known for being punctual. If he was at home, he was up before dawn to start work on the farm. They were not sure what mission Fury was gathering them for, but he would be here any minute. Clint would not be happy that he walked in late.

“I’ll go check if he is in his room.” Wanda volunteered as she blithely leapt to her feet. Tony opened his mouth to tell her that he could just have FRIDAY check on Clint, but Wanda was already half out of the door. She had a special bond with Clint. Clint had taken her under his wing and had become her biggest motivator and coach after the horrific events in Sokovia. Tony didn’t know exactly what happened between the two of them in Sokovia, but he was sure that Clint’s family had grown by two kids, one on Earth and one in the afterlife. “He’s not in his room.” She announced a few minutes later, concern on her face. She pulled out her phone to check, but there was no reply from the archer. Clint was awful at best at responding, but he would almost instantaneously respond to Wanda.

“I am sure that Clint has a good reason for his tardiness.” Vision was always the calm voice of reason. His lack of true emotions kept him from the same emotional waves that the others felt when something was amiss. No one wanted to speak up, but there was a feeling of dread in everyone’s stomach that something was really wrong. 

“Director Fury is twenty seconds out.” FRIDAY’s chipper voice came through the ceiling speakers, breaking everyone from their brief reverie. They would have to return to the late agent once Fury had delivered his message. Everyone got to their feet to greet Fury, listening to the crisp clicking sounds of his shoes as he got closer. 

“Nick.” Natasha’s voice was smooth as she gave Fury a nod and a small smile. He returned the nod before speaking to the rest of the room.

“We have a problem.” Fury didn’t waste any time getting down to business. He was never one for pleasantries. “This woman, Agrafena Preobrazhensky, has been popping up on our radar for the past few weeks. She has risen through the ranks of the Russian mafia, leaving an impressive body count behind her. She’s been attempting to secretly buy the material to build radioactive bombs. She’s even gotten her hands on a small amount of vibranium. Her current location is unknown, but we believe she’s protected by several enhanced individuals. If she gets her hands on the remaining materials needed for the bombs, we could be looking at worldwide devastation.” Fury tapped on his phone bring up a holographic picture of a slim, blonde haired woman. Her eyes were a steel grey and had a look of evil lurking in them. Wanda suppressed a small shiver as her fingers started to glow red. 

“So, we find her and –“ Rhodey made a slicing motion across his neck with his finger. This type of person did not need to exist. Millions of innocent lives would be at risk if she was able to carry out her evil plan. Rhodey had first joined the military to stop these types of people, and now, as an Avenger, he was only more driven to track down evildoers and bring them to justice. 

“We want her brought in alive. We need to track down her contacts and their contacts to stop this.” Fury replied. “Where’s Barton?” He looked around the room again, blinking as he realized the agent was not in the room. 

“We haven’t seen him yet today.” Wanda answered as she looked hopefully towards the door, as if the mention of Clint would make him appear. 

“Get his ass here.” Fury’s eyes narrowed as he turned to leave. “Wheels up in twenty.” He said as his parting words before he was gone. 

“You heard him, suit up.” Steve gestured to the room as he pulled off his jacket, revealing his red, white, and blue uniform. “Wanda, Natasha, you’re closest to Barton, so call him. See where he’s at.” 

“Do we go without him?” Sam spoke up after Fury had walked away. They were always at their best when the full group went in together. Bruce picked at his shirt, knowing leaving with one team member down increased the odds that this would be a code green for him if something went wrong. 

“We might have to.” Steve didn’t like that anymore than anyone else. Clint had saved all of their asses more than once with his insane eyesight and precision with his bow. “Any luck?” He turned to Natasha, whose fingers were flying over her keyboard as she typed out a quick message to Clint trying to figure out where he was. 

“Nothing yet.” She replied, as she hit send and pocketed her phone. She was in her black uniform, full of hidden taser disks. Stark had been working on her suit, increasing the number that she was able to carry, but also making the disk smaller so that Natasha could have even more of the disks. “I’ll try him again from the Quinjet.” She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of dread, but she knew she needed to focus on the mission. 

“I’ll call him for a third time.” Wanda hit the speed dial button but there was no answer, not even voicemail this time. Clint might have awful response times to texts and calls on a normal day, but when he knew there was a mission, he was one to pick up on the first ring. Clint was nothing less than professional when it came to his work and his work ethic. They all knew that this was completely out of the ordinary behavior for him, but they had to get Preobrazhensky into custody before she was able to cause any more destruction. 

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“Does this not strike anyone as odd?” Sam asked as he soared over the edges of the building. Tony was covering the other side, but there was no movement on his side either. There were no lights on, and he wasn’t picking up any heat signatures. They had come prepared for guns blazing and a good fire fight, but there was nothing but silence to greet them. 

“Proceed cautiously, this might be a trap.” Steve’s voice came through everyone’s ear as he advanced on foot through the woods. They had been given the intel that this is where Preobrazhensky was holed up, possibly even assembling her devices. 

“There’s no one here Steve. The entrances have no booby traps or live wires on them.” Sam said after a few minutes. He had expected the place to be rigged to blow if no one was there, but the building sat eerily empty. They had figured that there would be resistance waiting for them.

“We need to clear each room, bring back any clues, and figure out what her next move is. We cannot let her slip from our grasp.” Steve’s voice was commanding. Everyone gave their assent before they hurried into the building. Sam took pictures of several of the corkboards he came across that had scratched out designs on them. He didn’t read Russian, so he was at a loss of what they said. Natasha found several shell casings rolled into a dark corner that she put in an envelope and pocketed. Everyone was just starting to relay that they were striking out when Wanda screamed, her scream chilling everyone to their bones. 

“Where are you?” Sam’s voice was high pitched and breathless as he sprinted in the direction the screams were coming from. He had been on the opposite side of the building as Wanda. Vision simply phased through the walls as he rushed to Wanda’s location. It only took three minutes for the entire team to be assembled in the room that Wanda was in. Wanda had both hands clamped over her mouth as tears streamed down her face, another scream of terror ripping from her throat. Horror dawned on every Avenger’s face as they took in the scene before them. There was a picture of Clint’s face taped to the wall, beaten almost beyond recognition with a message below in a chilling blood red, _C_ _odes or He Dies_. 

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“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Tony’s voice was dangerously low as he spoke to the flight team that had been transporting Barton back to the compound for the mission. “You better fix that reply before I come fix it for you.” His voice rose into a angry shout as he threatened the person on the other end of the phone. His eyes had a fire in them that many had never seen before. This woman had taken one of his closest friends and teammates and fire was going to rain down on her once Tony found her.

“Tony.” Steve’s voice was quiet and pacifying, the one word conveying his message of calm down, keep your cool, and take a deep breath. He held his hands out in front of him placatingly, trying to calm Tony. Steve was just as much of a nervous wreck as Tony about the missing Avenger, but he had to keep his head on straight as the leader of the group. Wanda was still inconsolable and had been taken to her room by Vision to settle down for a few minutes. 

“They haven’t seen him. They said they touched down and he got into the car and they have no idea who was driving because they didn’t even care to look and now-“ Tony’s heated reply drifted off as he gestured angrily to the air. There was supposed to be safety protocols in place. Clint was more than capable of defending himself but there were nasty people who were always out to kill the Avengers, so they were always cautious.

They had been back at the compound for twenty minutes and no progress had been made on the location of Clint. All they knew is that this person, Agrafena Preobrazhensky, who they had not heard of before today, had not only known that they were coming and vanished, but had taken one of their own. She had hurt Clint, made him bleed, and everyone in that room was itching to make her pay. The look on Natasha’s face made Bruce’s stomach queasy. He thought he would rather jump off a bridge than ever be on the receiving end of that look. 

“Do we have any leads?” Sam asked as he looked at the interactive maps that were spread out in front of them. Every time he blinked, he saw Clint’s bloody face staring back at him, begging Sam to find him. He kept glancing back to the clock, knowing that every passing second was more torture that Clint suffered. 

“We should dive even deeper into the people that she got the items from and try to get a handle on who is working for her. Also, what types of codes does she want?” Rhodey stepped forward. His arms were crossed across his chest and he had heavy worry lines on his forehead. Years of military training reminded him how serious a situation like this was. Kidnapping and hostages made people desperate. 

“I’m guessing she wants one of my um old designs.” Stark looked miserable as he thought about it. There were top-secret codes that protected those types of designs, his old bomb and weapon making designs, but the six Avengers had access to them. Stark would never allow them to be used for bad again, but they were kept around as a precautionary measure such as if someone had ever created a weapon like them, his designs might be able to take theirs apart. The thought hadn’t really crossed his head before, that someone would think those codes were worth kidnapping an Avenger over. There were so many different weapons plans out there and Stark’s were no longer on the market. 

“Have we had any luck on locating the car that Clint was taken in?” Steve asked as the footage of Clint getting into the back of the black car and driving off replayed over and over again on one of the screens. There was no struggle. Clint had gotten in, unaware and unassuming of any danger, and now, he was gone. 

******

Clint would say that his body hurt but that would be the understatement of the century. His hands had long gone numb but somehow it still felt like needles were stabbing every inch of them. Blood ran down his arms from where his wrists had been rubbed past being raw. The rough rope’s fibers had wormed into his skin, ripping open cuts all around. He was a tiny bit grateful that he was not fully hanging from his arms and his feet were on the ground. Clint felt the blood dripping from his nose, mouth, and from the open cuts over his eyes after the second beating the woman had given him. He wasn’t sure if his left eye socket was broken, but the pain radiating from that side made him suspicious. The eye was swollen completely shut so he was only seeing out of his right eye at the moment. He could only imagine what his face must look like. Natasha would have some smartass remark about that once she got here. His ribcage and stomach area were on fire. He hadn’t heard any cracks from his ribs, so he was assuming just some bruises, but it didn’t mean they weren’t excruciatingly painful. The woman had taken special care to jab her elbow into the spaces between his ribs, increasing the amount of pain they caused. Laura was going to kill him once he got home when she saw just how bad this was. There would be no hiding how badly the bruises had blossomed out from the points of contact. Clint moaned to himself as he forced himself to take a deeper breath, trying to gauge how bad his ribs were but taking anything beyond a small gasp was too painful to try again. He was more than ready to be off of this rope and in a bed for a little rest and recovery. While he had been trained extensively to withstand torture, it wasn’t a pastime that he enjoyed, and he wanted to be anywhere else but here. 

“I want an answer.” The woman’s voice made Clint flinch before he steeled himself. He hadn’t even realized he was drifting off. “Just give me the codes and we’ll get you down from there.” Clint smirked at her naivety. This woman was insane if she thought she’d ever get any information from him. 

“You can kiss my ass.” Clint snarled back. He would never give up those codes. It didn’t matter what she did to him. He just had to hang on long enough for the remaining Avengers to find him and rescue him. Once he was no longer strung up, he had plans for what he was going to do to her that included making her bleed and beg for mercy.

“I can do many things to that ass.” She stepped forward, squeezing Clint’s ass with her hand, grabbing his hair with the other, forcing him to look her in the eyes. Clint suppressed a shudder. He was no stranger to the lengths that someone would go in torture. He really hoped that he wasn’t here long enough to find out all of the types of things she enjoyed. “You will give me those codes.” He knew that she was going to make his life hell until the others got here. “Since you don’t seem to want to listen to me, I’ve brought in my second hand, Anatoly.” Clint heard heavy footsteps coming closer to him. He wanted to turn his head to look at the person approaching him from behind, but he knew better. That would be giving them the reaction that they wanted. “You’ll be begging for me before you know it.” Her voice made an involuntary chill race down Clint’s spine. Clint Barton was not a beggar. He would not beg.

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“They’ve located the car!” Sam couldn’t stop the happiness in his voice. They had been running software for the better part of two hours now. There was a growing desperation filling the room. There had been very little for the team to go off of. They had a tentative timeline that left about seventeen hours total unaccounted for including the mission. The perks of using Quinjets meant that international travel was much quicker. The time started from when Clint got into the car and went until the current time. There was a timer in the corner of one screen, counting the hours and minutes. 

“Where is it?” Steve asked quickly, grabbing the shield and attaching it to his back. He didn’t want to go anywhere without being prepared for a battle. Wanda leapt to her feet, ready to go wherever Sam said the car was. She had rejoined the group after about thirty minutes, her eyes puffy and pink.

“It, it looks like it’s near a private airstrip.” Sam’s brow furrowed, knowing that if she had gotten Clint on a plane, their search radius just broadened immensely. After this much time had passed, Clint could literally be anywhere in the world and that meant finding him would be that much harder. “It’s not too far.” He had the address transferred to his phone while Steve gave out orders. They had already set in place that no one went anywhere alone outside of the compound until the kidnappers were brought in. They had gotten Clint without a fight and that meant they were dangerous and should not be underestimated. 

“Sam, Wanda, Natasha, and I will go to the scene. Tony, Rhodey, Bruce, and Vision, stay here and try to see if we can come up with any other leads.” Everyone simply nodded that they understood. They didn’t waste any time heading to the garage. The car ride to the scene was silent.

“Here.” Natasha pointed to the black car that she recognized from the video that she had watched until it was burned into her memory. She slid a device from her pocket and picked the front door lock. She pressed the unlock button so that they could look in the back seats. She noted the divide was up between the front and back. The front was completely wiped clean, but the forensic team would go over it with a finetooth comb. She heard one of the others swear and she came around the door to look in the back when the smell hit her. A sickly, sweet smell that reminded her of rum oozed out from the interior of the back that she recognized immediately, chloroform.

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“Let’s begin. I want to hear you scream.” Anatoly’s voice was laced with a thick Russian accent as he cracked his knuckles before slipping his hand into his pocket. Clint gulped at the sight of brass knuckles emerging from his pocket. Not that there were any torture methods that were his favorite, but brass knuckles were towards the bottom of the list. He swung, connecting with Clint’s unprotected side. Pain exploded out from the spot where the brass knuckles hit. Clint grunted once before gritting his teeth together. He would not give Anatoly the pleasure of screaming.

“Harder.” The woman egged Anatoly on from where she stood off to the side. Clint realized belatedly that he didn’t even know her name. It didn’t really matter, but she had never said who she was. All Clint knew is that she wanted codes from him, codes that he could never give her. Anatoly nodded curtly before winding his fist up again. This time he connected with Clint’s solar plexus. Every bit of air in Clint’s lungs fled, as he felt his chest spasming frantically. Pain spread across his stomach violently. God damn, it really hurt. He gasped and wheezed as his lungs fluttered, unable to get any air in his lungs when Anatoly drew back again and slammed into that same spot, blood erupting as the brass knuckles split open wounds on his stomach. Clint bit down on his lip to stop an agonized shout. His stomach was in anguish from the two brutal hits, causing him to break out in a sweat. The force of the hits had made him sway backwards, causing the wounds on his wrists to chafe further, and more blood slid down his arms. Vomit rose up in his throat, but he swallowed it back down. 

“You will save yourself a lot of pain by just giving us the codes.” Anatoly sneered at Clint. The next hit came in the same spot. Clint couldn’t stop the moan as he saw stars. His eyes rolled back momentarily from the pain. He gasped for air, desperately trying to fill his lungs. His toes curled under as he fought to get control of his body back. “It is going to be fun to break you.” Anatoly’s voice was full of venom as he took in bloody and beaten Avenger. It would be a lifetime achievement to be known for breaking Hawkeye. He had so many things planned and once he was done with him, Clint would do anything he asked. 

“Better men than you have tried to break me.” Clint quipped back in a snarky tone. He had survived an abusive father, his circus training, and Loki, Anatoly wouldn’t be the person who broke him. He was stronger than them and he just kept reminding himself that the other Avengers would be coming for him soon. Enough time had passed that they knew he was missing and they had to be searching for him. 

“Famous last words.” A sick smile spread across Anatoly’s face. Clint knew that more pain was about to come his way. Anatoly stepped closer before jamming his fist into Clint’s solar plexus for the fourth time. The pain overwhelmed Clint’s brain, sending pain signals shooting out to every nerve ending in his body. There weren’t words that began to describe how badly everything hurt. There was not a centimeter on Clint’s body that wasn’t in agony. Clint’s eyes rolled up again as he felt his limbs starting to shake, trying to accommodate the pain response. His nervous system was so flooded by pain responses, he wasn’t sure what way was up and down anymore. It suddenly occurred to him that he was about to start having a seizure when an involuntary strangled moan was ripped from his throat and the pain shut his body down as he started convulsing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: physical and psychological torture, seizure, talk about non-con

“Cut him down until he finishes having his little tantrum.” Agrafena barked as she watched the man in front of her shake uncontrollably as his head thrashed back and forth. Their party would be over prematurely if he died. She needed information from him before that could happen and she planned on getting that information. Anatoly stepped forward and sliced through the rope holding Clint up, letting him hit the ground unceremoniously. Clint flinched as he hit the ground, consciousness hitting him like a hammer to the face. The flinch was lost among the convulsions still running through his entire body. Small grunts broke through, against his will, as Clint continued to seize with his jaw clamped together painfully. He knew his nerves were totally overwhelmed and reacting from the repeated hits to the solar plexus and God, did it hurt. He knew that eventually his system would right itself now that Anatoly wasn’t continuing his assault, but it was a very painful process until it was over. Seizures had a specific place in Hell for the destruction that they caused to the body. His hands clenched and unclenched from where they were still tied together up above his head. Clint just wanted the seizure to stop so badly. He wanted to be back home, hopefully with some good IV drugs to keep the pain at bay while he slept this off. He knew it had to hurt for him to want IV drugs.

Every inch of his body felt like it was on fire. His left side had taken the brunt of the fall and was smarting, the pain somehow making itself known amid the burning muscle spasms that were tearing through his body. It felt like hours had passed before the tremors started to slow down. Clint almost cried out in relief when he felt his muscles finally start to relax. The pain from the beatings to his chest, stomach, and face were starting to flare more from the muscle contractions that the seizure caused. It took a few minutes before he finally started to feel like everything was coming together. 

“Oh look, the little bird is done throwing a fit.” Anatoly’s voice was gruff as he strode to kneel next to the man, random twitches still running down Clint’s body. Anatoly smirked at the pained grimace on the man’s face. He enjoyed inflicting pain on others. He had started a young age, with a neighborhood boy, and never stopped. It was just an added bonus that he got paid to do it. 

“Fuck you.” Clint grunted out between bared teeth. The shaking was infuriating and made it so that he was seeing triple. His body really fucking hurt. The beatings and the seizure were taking a toll on his body. The post-seizure tremors were only aggravating his injuries further. He also figured he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in at least a day and it was making him even weaker. He was really ready for the rest of the team to come bursting through the door. He wondered if maybe even the Hulk would come. Bruce was plenty happy to stay on the jet or even back at the base for missions but watching the Hulk pummel Anatoly’s face into the ground repeatedly was really appealing. 

“More like, I’ll fuck you.” Anatoly’s voice somehow went lower and took on a sick tone that had Clint’s one good eye snapping up to meet Anatoly’s before he could stop himself. Clint had lived through that type of nightmare before and he was keen to never repeat it. He had worked to overcome the scared child that hid in the night. It just took three words for Clint to start to feel genuinely undone and to put a twinge of fear into his heart. 

“In time, Anatoly.” The woman stepped forward, putting a light hand on Anatoly’s shoulder. Anatoly gave her a nasty side eye before standing back up, his height dwarfing hers. He might be the muscle but from his body language as Anatoly looked at her, she was in the person in charge. She beckoned him and they both strode to the door. “You better rest while you can.” Her words were ominous as the door slammed shut behind her, a heavy bolt sliding in place a few moments later. The clang of the lock engaging reverberated through the room with a deafening finality. Clint felt his body relaxing, desperately needing sleep to recover, but fighting with the constant knowledge that he wasn’t in a safe spot. 

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“He couldn’t even fight because he was fucking drugged.” Sam announced to the rest of the room as he stormed back in from evaluating the car. They had the car loaded up and brought back in case there was anything useful in it, but they had a feeling that it would be a dead end. These people hadn’t messed around and Sam figured they wouldn’t make a mistake so basic as leaving DNA in the car. While the four had been out in the field, the others had been setting up various tracking software. The biggest concern was the amount of space that they needed to cover and how many places that the archer could be hidden. 

“The team is taking the car apart to see if there is any trace DNA left.” Natasha added, only a half-step behind Sam. Steve had a look of utter defeat on his face as he walked in with Wanda. He was unrealistically hopeful that Agrafena or her thugs had left something behind, but from the initial investigation, they were not hopeful they would find anything. 

“We’ve got a running list of people who have had contact with Agrafena or one of her henchmen.” Tony pointed to the holographic display emitting from the middle of the circular table. There were names being added in different colors, blinking and moving to different sides of the list. “The algorithm is sorting them by the priority.”

“Who’s up first?” Steve asked as the eight of them gathered around the table, grim looks on their faces. They knew that the task at hand would be a difficult one, but Barton was already hurt, and they wanted to get him home before he suffered more damage. Tony tapped on the interface at the bottom of the interactive display. A mean looking face popped up, along with a name. Sam suppressed a shudder. He knew that stepping into the Avengers meant he would be in danger, but the eyes on this man promised that he would have no regrets for doing unspeakably awful things. 

“Anatoly Volkov. He is Agrafena’s second-in-command. He has a grossly long list of crimes. He seems to specialize in pain and torture.” Rhodey chipped in next, looking at the picture with disdain. Some of the victims were completely beyond recognition. “He’s been overseeing the moving of products and ensuring product quality.” 

“We haven’t been able to locate him yet.” Bruce added, with a sad look in his eye. “He doesn’t keep his phones for longer than forty-eight hours. They’re burners, so they’re not equipped with the same tracking software as most phones. He also has an uncanny knack for being able to blend into crowds.” He pushed his glasses back up onto his nose once he was finished speaking. 

“The last place that we saw him was in Hawaii. We are pretty confident that isn’t where they took Clint. The private airport has no flight manifests for anywhere in Hawaii.” Tony tapped and brought up a world map with twelve blinking dots. “These are the flights that left from that airport during the timeframe.” Tony couldn’t deny that it would make things a lot easier if all of these assholes were all just blown to pieces or left to die from radiation poisoning. 

“Can we tie Anatoly to anywhere close to the flight manifests?” Steve asked, looking at the blinking lights on the map. They were spread out all over the world, from India to Korea to Canada. They couldn’t split up and be spread that thin, plus there was no set location within the cities where the private jets landed, and they would waste so much time just trying to locate where Barton was being kept. Plus, if Agrafena got word they were close, she might hurt the archer more, or worse, kill him. Maybe, though. Anatoly would be tied to a location and they could find Clint through him. 

“He’s been spotted in three of the locations. The latest was in Italy.” Bruce answered, pointing at the map. It was a daunting task, but they would not stop searching until they had Clint back. 

“Let’s start there. Are there any known associates or how about tracking his entire itinerary?” Steve talked through his thoughts out loud, trying to think about any possible solutions. Tony nodded and typed in the perimeters, bringing up a timestamped list of everywhere that Anatoly had gone. Tony didn’t have to remind anyone that they were racing against the clock to get to Clint. 

//////\\\\\\\\\\\//////\\\\\\\\\\\//////\\\\\\\\\\\ 

It felt like the door had just swung shut when it thrown open again with a loud bang. Clint jumped, his good eye snapping wide open while his heart clenched in fear. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He hadn’t even realized his eyes had closed. Anatoly was advancing towards him, dragging a chair with chains attached to it, and Clint grunted and forced his floppy body up into a sitting position. He didn’t plan on making it easy for the man to get him into this chair if he could help it. 

“Fight and you’re only going to make it worse on yourself.” Anatoly seemed to notice the fight rising in the archer’s body. Clint resisted rolling his eyes and prepared to fight. He wasn’t sure how many hostiles were in the building, but he had gotten himself out of some sticky situations before. Anatoly set the chair a few feet from Clint and grabbed an electric drill hanging from the tool belt around his waist. He carefully installed eight long screws from the metal plates on the bottom of the chair legs. He gave the chair an experimental tug and gave Clint a disparaging smile as he tucked the drill away. He advanced on Clint and picked him up like he was a rag doll. Clint tried to kick the man, but Anatoly simply laughed and blocked the maneuver and tied Clint’s wrists, forearms, chest, calves, and ankles to the chair with thick iron chains. He pulled off Clint’s socks and shoes once he was done, leaving Clint in just his tactical pants. 

“Was this little display meant to scare me?” Clint taunted Anatoly as Anatoly reached for something in his pocket. Anatoly pulled out a pair of pliers, not letting Clint’s taunt get to him. Anatoly was known for his cruel torture methods, something that Clint was about to experience first-hand. 

“How much do you like your fingernails?” Anatoly smirked as he leaned over to get a better view of Clint’s fingers. “I looked at footage of you shooting, so I know you’re left-handed. We can start there.” Clint’s heart dropped, most went automatically for the right hand, but losing the fingernails on his left hand would make shooting painful and definitely would cause his accuracy to take a hit. Anatoly didn’t wait and used the pliers to grab onto the tip of Clint’s thumbnail. Clint braced himself as Anatoly started to tug, swallowing the shout of pain as the nail ripped free. Blood dripped off the edge of the pulpy part that had been covered by his nail a few seconds prior. Anatoly blinked, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Clint’s face. Clint glared back at him as another nail tore free. A vein popped on Anatoly’s face when Clint refused to scream, and he quickly took off the last three nails on Clint’s left hand. Clint was panting, his forehead beaded in sweat as he held in his screams. He was not going to give Anatoly the satisfaction of hearing him scream. “You are tough, but even the toughest break.” 

“Good luck, big boy.” Clint couldn’t help but taunt Anatoly. He knew that getting under his skin might mean he would be facing more pain. He also knew that it meant Anatoly might falter, giving him an opportunity to escape. Clint looked down at the mess of his fingertips. They were throbbing, adding to the one giant ache that was his body. Anatoly looked down him, an evil glint in his eyes as he grabbed onto Clint’s jaw roughly. Sharp pain shot up as he squeezed on the hinge part of the joint. Clint’s jaw was forced open, the pliers jammed in before he could do anything. Anatoly looked almost excited as he clamped down on one of Clint’s molars, before yanking hard. Clint moaned as the tooth came flying out, blood erupting from the exposed roots. 

Anatoly reached back into his pocket, tightening his grip on Clint’s jaw as he pulled out a small packet. He emptied the contents onto the space where Clint’s tooth had just been, and the searing pain erupted instantaneously in Clint’s mouth. Clint’s eyes watered as he started drooling. Anatoly had smeared wasabi into the incredibly sensitive wound. Clint grunted as he accidentally swallowed and inhaled an excruciatingly hot, but bloody mixture of saliva and wasabi in his pained haze. He moaned louder, Anatoly’s smile growing larger as he began to struggle. The chains rattled as Clint fought him, but Anatoly’s grip on Clint’s jaw as like a vice. Clint felt himself gag before he wretched. Anatoly leapt back to avoid the splatter as Clint’s abused stomach and ribs protested the vomiting. Tears streamed down Clint’s face from the spiciness and pain. His stomach churned and he vomited again before he let his head fall to his chest, exhausted. His mouth was still on fire as he bit back another moan. Fuck, that was worse than the seizure. He was really ready to go home now. Where the hell was everyone? What was taking them so long? 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! this chapter is going to get really dark, including a rape scene. if you are sensitive to that type of thing, please take care of yourself and skip it. i am a sexual assault survivor so i always want to make sure fair warning is given. it will start after the last ~*~*~*~ . the word before that ~*~*~*~ is RINGING. if you need to stop there, please do!! 
> 
> hope everyone is doing well at home and staying healthy and safe.

Strands of greenish red drool had dried against Clint’s face as he flitted in between consciousness and unconsciousness. The worst of the pain in his mouth had finally subsided, leaving a deep ache in his mouth. He didn’t want to think about the damage that it had done, and he knew they were well past the time where the tooth could be put in. It would be one more porcelain fake in his mouth. Anatoly stood over him with his arms crossed as he admired the messiness of his work. The Avenger was proving harder than he thought to break but he would, they all did. He was just going to have to up the pain factor a little more and then he would get into the man’s head and rip him apart from the inside out. 

“Wake up.” Anatoly dumped an ice-cold bucket of water over Clint’s head. Clint spluttered as he shook his head, his eyes wide with panic as he tried to orient himself to his surroundings. The chains rattled as he tried to bring a hand to wipe his face. Realization washed over him that he was still in this hellhole with his body in agony. His face, especially the area surrounding his swollen eye was pulsing, sending constant pain signals to his brain. His left hand felt like it had been dipped into lava and was still dripping blood from where his fingernails should be. His ribs and stomach area felt like it had been hit by a train. The pain was exhausting. He didn’t stop thinking about how ready he was for the others to get here so that they could get him out of here. 

“I wasn’t asleep.” Clint quipped. He was sure that almost passing out from pain counted as sleeping. He wished he was sleeping somewhere else, anywhere else. He would kill for a decent night’s sleep with a strong cup of black coffee when he woke up. Hell, he’d stay in the hospital overnight. He knew it must be bad for him to negotiating with himself like this. 

“You’re just weak.” Anatoly answered him as he reached back into his pocket. Clint didn’t understand how so many awful things fit into the man’s pockets. Anatoly pulled out a small handheld blowtorch. Cint swallowed hard. He already knew what was coming next and he was not ready. Anatoly didn’t waste any time, turning the blowtorch on and teased Clint with the flame, glancing the flame lightly over Clint’s exposed chest, not holding it in any one spot for an extended period of time. Clint could feel the hair on his chest fizzing away under the heat and he tried to steel himself against the upcoming pain. Anatoly gave him a sickening smile and held the flame steady against the upper part of Clint’s right pec muscle. Clint sucked in a shaky breath as he felt his skin starting to melt in the flame. The pain flared worse, spreading from the blistering, peeling mess under the dancing blue and yellow flame. It was like someone was using a dull blade to carefully flay all of the skin off of his chest. The pain was unbearable, please, make it stop, Clint begged inside. He couldn’t say the words out loud, but he was screaming them on the inside. Anatoly grunted, frustrated that Clint didn’t scream. He shifted the flame to a new area, widening the affected area, blood starting to drip down Clint’s chest as the more blisters started to give his skin a frothy appearance. Clint could feel blood in his mouth from where he had bitten the inside of his cheek to stop from screaming. Any time now guys, he thought wryly to himself, you guys are sure taking your sweet time. He really missed the Laura and the kids. He just wanted to be back on the farm, working on his latest project, tearing up the kitchen floor. 

“You can stop this, just ask me nicely, or give me your access codes.” Anatoly touched a knuckle to Clint’s face. Clint looked up at Anatoly, defiant in his silence. He couldn’t give up those codes, no matter what. They would give these evil assholes unfettered access to all types of weapon plans. Anatoly moved the blowtorch flame again, sliding it to the incredibly sensitive skin on the side of his chest, a few inches under his armpit. Anatoly outright laughed at the sizzle of skin. He saw a flash of white light as he squirmed, trying to get way from the unrelenting pain. Clint’s eyes grew wide before the pain was building and building inside of him, threatening to burst at the seams as he let the darkness consume him. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Tony was trying to stop himself from having a temper tantrum or a panic attack. He wasn’t even sure which direction he was headed but he was taking in big gulps of air, trying to steady himself. A horrifying picture of Clint with a burner cell had been dropped off in front of the Tower about thirty minutes ago. There was no note, just the picture and the cell phone. So far, no text or phone call had come through. The messenger who had dropped it off had been apprehended and all he had to say was that he was paid by some guy who grabbed him and pulled him into an alley. He had given him a thousand dollars to give this to the front desk receptionist. There were no fingerprints on the phone, picture, or the money and the guy had been smart. He wore a hoodie and disappeared into the crowded subway station. There was no tracing him and the hoodie he was wearing was found in a trash can an hour later, drenched in gasoline to destroy the DNA on it. These people weren’t making any big mistakes and it was causing further delays in locating Barton. 

“He looks awful.” Wanda’s eyes were swimming in unshed tears. She was trying so hard to keep it together but there was a red shimmer surrounding her from her powers. Clint’s head was lulled against his chest with a weird greenish red vomit running over his chin and splashing onto his chest. His face was very swollen, almost beyond recognition. The area surrounding his left eye was so enlarged, Natasha knew the socket was broken. There were maybe three or four tiny spots on his face that were his normal pale, white skin. The rest was coated in blood, in varying stages of drying. His chest was a grotesque painting done in blues, purples, and black. She felt her heart panging at the pain Clint must be in, wanting nothing more than to be there, untying him from the chair and holding him in her arms until medical got him the help he desperately needed. Clint was the mentally strongest person that she knew, but every person had their limit. 

“We just are supposed to wait on a phone call?” Sam’s arms were crossed tightly across his chest as he paced the room. The others could see the lightened spots from how tightly he was holding onto his biceps. Everyone was tense and on edge, trying not to snap at each other. It was easy to displace anger and fear for the situation. 

“We can’t just give up the codes.” Steve’s voice had a desperate tone to it. He wouldn’t just let his teammate, his friend, die, but he couldn’t give up codes that would kill millions of people. 

“We just let him die?!” Wanda’s voice was borderline hysterical as the tears started to fall, imagining the worst possible scenario, of them discovering Clint’s lifeless body, blood pooling around it. “What about his wife? His kids?” Clint had just sent her an updated picture of Nate, with his chubby cheeks and bright eyes. 

“No, I’m not saying that!” Steve instantly defended himself, knowing there was no good answer here. “I-we, just, these codes are important.” 

“But Clint’s not important?” Tony’s voice was rising in pitch as his fists balled up, taking a step closer to Steve. He couldn’t get the image of vomit running down Clint’s face out of his mind. It was horrifying on a level he had never imagined he would see. 

“We just leave Clint to die?” Natasha said at the same time, her eyes flashing dangerously. She realistically knew that they couldn’t give the codes over, but this was Clint. Clint had a wife and three kids at home. He would never hesitate to give the skin off his back. He was too valuable to just write off, although any life was too valuable to just write off. 

“No- Jesus, Tony, Nat.” Steve slapped both of his hands to his face. He knew he was treading on careful ground here. “Listen to me, I am not saying Clint’s not important. I just, I’m lost here too.” 

“So, what do we do?” Rhodey asked, feeling like he had been repeating himself since this whole disaster had started. He dared to glance at the clock. They were almost at a twenty-three hours since Clint had been taken. Twenty-three hours was a long time to be left with someone who was torturing you. Even twenty-three minutes felt like a lifetime when someone was hurting you. He didn’t want to think about how badly it must all hurt when he looked at the picture that had been scanned in and was displayed digitally in front of him. 

“We continue to trace down anyone we can and wait on a phone call.” Steve’s voice was miserable. No one had stopped to sleep, and they would not have eaten except that Pepper had brought in chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans and wouldn’t leave until they had all eaten what she deemed was an acceptable amount. “Have we made any progress on narrowing down locations?” 

“We’re down to three different cities.” Bruce pointed to the map. There were three blinking lights, but they were literally spread across the world. Romania, Korea, and Brazil were left. “Anatoly was last in Russia, but we don’t know for sure he’s with Clint, and these are the two other locations that we can trace Agrafena.” She had been traveling to look at products herself all over the world, but plane ticket purchases and flight manifests had tracked these locations down. It had been tricky to sort through the aliases and tricks used to hide their tracks, but Tony’s software was smarter. The chirping noise had heads whipping around to the source. The phone was ringing. 

~*~*~*~ 

The pain hit Clint like hitting the ground after being dropped off a third story as he jolted awake. For the second time, a bucket of water being tossed over his head was what woke him up from unconsciousness. He took a moment to realize he was no longer in the chair but was tied up in an awkward kneeling position on the floor. His arms were tied up above his head again. He swore he could still feel the fire on his chest from the blow torch. He could feel the ghost of the knuckles against his stomach and ribs. He could see the woman’s wicked smile as she rammed her elbow into his face. 

“You are filthy.” Anatoly’s voice had a false sweet tone to it that made Clint want to shudder, but he didn’t give in yet. He kept his eyes closed, hoping that Anatoly wouldn’t realize he was faking being asleep. “Oh, I know you’re awake. Your body is tensed up. We need to get you cleaned up.” Clint flinched at the sound of a hose being turned on and then, the piercing, freezing stream hit him full in the face, flaring the pain in his body as he started to shiver. Anatoly took his time, hosing down every last bit of him before yanking off his pants and underwear roughly, leaving Clint naked before him. Anatoly licked his lips as he took in the sight in front of him. “Don’t worry little bird, once you’re clean, I’ll warm you up.” Clint bit his lip to stop himself from protesting as his heart sank. He had to be stronger than Anatoly, just a little bit longer until the others came. His brain already knew what was coming and he knew that in his current state, he wouldn’t be able to get away. God, he really needed the team to hurry up. Anatoly dropped the hose once he was satisfied that he had washed off everything he could, although fresh blood was dripping from the irritated wounds. He was looking at Clint with a hunger in his eyes. 

“I’m going to enjoy this.” Anatoly whispered into Clint’s ear as he yanks on the chains so that Clint’s legs are under him again, shaking like a deer just learning to stand. The painful kneeling had left his legs asleep and cramping, but he tried to get them under him. Anatoly tapped his foot against Clint’s legs, nudging them apart, then forcing them apart when Clint struggled to stop him with his legs still half asleep. Clint was surprised by the tears that had sprang up in his eyes from the fact that he knew what was about to happen, but he blinked hard to make them disappear as he steeled himself for the pain he knew was about to come. There was a zipper being pulled down, then a rustle of what Clint assumed had to be a condom. Anatoly’s fucking pants, they really did have everything. He thought wryly, at least he wouldn’t end up with some STI this way. Then, there was a pressure against a place he never wanted anyone to touch. He had never wanted to end up in this position again. The pressure built for a moment inside of him, then pain exploded. It was like Anatoly had shoved that blowtorch straight inside of him and turned it on high. Anatoly gave him no time to adjust before he was shoving in until his hips were flush against Clint. God damn it, Clint thought, this guy had to be hung like a horse as burning pain raced up his entire back. It was the worst pain, overwhelming all of the other tortures his body had endured since being brought to this room. 

“You feel so good. You’re so tight.” Anatoly moaned into Clint’s ears as Clint couldn’t stop the full body shudder as Anatoly shoved forward as Clint felt something tearing inside of him and a trickle of blood started down his leg. More tears formed in Clint’s eyes from the excruciating pain of being violated in the worst possible way and he couldn’t stop them from falling this time. The pain was worse than he had remembered it being. It was like being stabbed with a sword in the ass over and over. Everything else that had hurt before this moment dulled compared to this pain. “Oh good, now you’ll be wet.” Anatoly must have felt the blood as he started moving and Clint opened his mouth before strangling off the scream. Anatoly set a brutal pace, slamming in as blood splattered out from him and ran down Clint’s legs in streams, starting to make tiny pools in between his legs. Clint didn’t know how but the pain managed to continue to grow, taking over every sense and leaving him desperately trying to get away from Anatoly. The chains rattled as he tried to get away, tried to get the pain to stop, but he couldn’t get away. Anatoly sped up as he pounded into Clint. Please guys, please, Clint’s inner monologue was simply a begging of someone to come save him. He’d do anything to stop this pain. Oh God, please make this pain stop. He could feel himself tearing wider and deeper and it hurt in a way that there were not words to describe. There was no pain that compared to this. Please, please make it stop. 

“Please.” Clint’s voice came out like he’d smoked a thousand cigarettes as he broke in a way he had never done before. “Please, please stop.” He lurched forward with the force of Anatoly’s movements as he begged. Oh God, he was begging. He had never begged before, never, but he just couldn’t take this anymore. He couldn't take the pain. He needed it to stop. Clint needed it get away as his good eye looked around desperately, trying to find something to focus on, as the pain scorched him from inside, more blood dripping from his ripped anus. He let more tears fall as he found a spot far away to focus on, and as his body rocked forward with each thrust, the spark in his eyes dulled and he let himself leave the pain behind for a bit as he went far away inside of his head, not sure if he’d ever come back from the place he was taking himself and not sure if he even cared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: graphic rape/non-con, torture (blowtorch)
> 
> graphic rape/non-con is in **** so you can skip it if you need

Strands of greenish red drool had dried against Clint’s face as he flitted in between consciousness and unconsciousness. The worst of the pain in his mouth had finally subsided, leaving a deep ache in his mouth. He didn’t want to think about the damage that it had done, and he knew they were well past the time where the tooth could be put in. It would be one more porcelain fake in his mouth. Anatoly stood over him with his arms crossed as he admired the messiness of his work. The Avenger was proving harder than he thought to break but he would, they all did. He was just going to have to up the pain factor a little more and then he would get into the man’s head and rip him apart from the inside out.

“Wake up.” Anatoly dumped an ice-cold bucket of water over Clint’s head. Clint spluttered as he shook his head, his eyes wide with panic as he tried to orient himself to his surroundings. The chains rattled as he tried to bring a hand to wipe his face. Realization washed over him that he was still in this hellhole with his body in agony. His face, especially the area surrounding his swollen eye was pulsing, sending constant pain signals to his brain. His left hand felt like it had been dipped into lava and was still dripping blood from where his fingernails should be. His ribs and stomach area felt like it had been hit by a train. The pain was exhausting. He didn’t stop thinking about how ready he was for the others to get here so that they could get him out of here.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Clint quipped. He was sure that almost passing out from pain counted as sleeping. He wished he was sleeping somewhere else, anywhere else. He would kill for a decent night’s sleep with a strong cup of black coffee when he woke up. Hell, he’d stay in the hospital overnight. He knew it must be bad for him to negotiating with himself like this.

“You’re just weak.” Anatoly answered him as he reached back into his pocket. Clint didn’t understand how so many awful things fit into the man’s pockets. Anatoly pulled out a small handheld blowtorch. Cint swallowed hard. He already knew what was coming next and he was not ready. Anatoly didn’t waste any time, turning the blowtorch on and teased Clint with the flame, glancing the flame lightly over Clint’s exposed chest, not holding it in any one spot for an extended period of time. Clint could feel the hair on his chest fizzing away under the heat and he tried to steel himself against the upcoming pain. Anatoly gave him a sickening smile and held the flame steady against the upper part of Clint’s right pec muscle. Clint sucked in a shaky breath as he felt his skin starting to melt in the flame. The pain flared worse, spreading from the blistering, peeling mess under the dancing blue and yellow flame. It was like someone was using a dull blade to carefully flay all of the skin off of his chest. The pain was unbearable, please, make it stop, Clint begged inside. He couldn’t say the words out loud, but he was screaming them on the inside. Anatoly grunted, frustrated that Clint didn’t scream. He shifted the flame to a new area, widening the affected area, blood starting to drip down Clint’s chest as the more blisters started to give his skin a frothy appearance. Clint could feel blood in his mouth from where he had bitten the inside of his cheek to stop from screaming. Any time now guys, he thought wryly to himself. You guys are sure taking your sweet time. He really missed the Laura and the kids. He just wanted to be back on the farm, working on his latest project, tearing up the kitchen floor.

“You can stop this, just ask me nicely, or give me your access codes.” Anatoly touched a knuckle to Clint’s face. Clint looked up at Anatoly, defiant in his silence. He couldn’t give up those codes, no matter what. They would give these evil assholes unfettered access to all types of weapon plans. Anatoly moved the blowtorch flame again, sliding it to the incredibly sensitive skin on the side of his chest, a few inches under his armpit. Anatoly outright laughed at the sizzle of skin. He saw a flash of white light as he squirmed, trying to get way from the unrelenting pain. Clint’s eyes grew wide before the pain was building and building inside of him, threatening to burst at the seams as he let the darkness consume him.

//////\\\\\\\\\\\//////\\\\\\\\\\\//////\\\\\\\\\\\

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Tony was trying to stop himself from having a temper tantrum or a panic attack. He wasn’t even sure which direction he was headed but he was taking in big gulps of air, trying to steady himself. A horrifying picture of Clint with a burner cell had been dropped off in front of the Tower about thirty minutes ago. There was no note, just the picture and the cell phone. So far, no text or phone call had come through. The messenger who had dropped it off had been apprehended and all he had to say was that he was paid by some guy who grabbed him and pulled him into an alley. He had given him a thousand dollars to give this to the front desk receptionist. There were no fingerprints on the phone, picture, or the money and the guy had been smart. He wore a hoodie and disappeared into the crowded subway station. There was no tracing him and the hoodie he was wearing was found in a trash can an hour later, drenched in gasoline to destroy the DNA on it. These people weren’t making any big mistakes and it was causing further delays in locating Barton.

“He looks awful.” Wanda’s eyes were swimming in unshed tears. She was trying so hard to keep it together but there was a red shimmer surrounding her from her powers. Clint’s head was lulled against his chest with a weird greenish red vomit running over his chin and splashing onto his chest. His face was very swollen, almost beyond recognition. The area surrounding his left eye was so enlarged, Natasha knew the socket was broken. There were maybe three or four tiny spots on his face that were his normal pale, white skin. The rest was coated in blood, in varying stages of drying. His chest was a grotesque painting done in blues, purples, and black. She felt her heart panging at the pain Clint must be in, wanting nothing more than to be there, untying him from the chair and holding him in her arms until medical got him the help he desperately needed. Clint was the mentally strongest person that she knew, but every person had their limit.

“We just are supposed to wait on a phone call?” Sam’s arms were crossed tightly across his chest as he paced the room. The others could see the lightened spots from how tightly he was holding onto his biceps. Everyone was tense and on edge, trying not to snap at each other. It was easy to displace anger and fear for the situation.

“We can’t just give up the codes.” Steve’s voice had a desperate tone to it. He wouldn’t just let his teammate, his friend, die, but he couldn’t give up codes that would kill millions of people.

“We just let him die?!” Wanda’s voice was borderline hysterical as the tears started to fall, imagining the worst possible scenario, of them discovering Clint’s lifeless body, blood pooling around it. “What about his wife? His kids?” Clint had just sent her an updated picture of Nate, with his chubby cheeks and bright eyes.

“No, I’m not saying that!” Steve instantly defended himself, knowing there was no good answer here. “I-we, just, these codes are important.”

“But Clint’s not important?” Tony’s voice was rising in pitch as his fists balled up, taking a step closer to Steve. He couldn’t get the image of vomit running down Clint’s face out of his mind. It was horrifying on a level he had never imagined he would see.

“We just leave Clint to die?” Natasha said at the same time, her eyes flashing dangerously. She realistically knew that they couldn’t give the codes over, but this was Clint. Clint had a wife and three kids at home. He would never hesitate to give the skin off his back. He was too valuable to just write off, although any life was too valuable to just write off.

“No- Jesus, Tony, Nat.” Steve slapped both of his hands to his face. He knew he was treading on careful ground here. “Listen to me, I am not saying Clint’s not important. I just, I’m lost here too.”

“So, what do we do?” Rhodey asked, feeling like he had been repeating himself since this whole disaster had started. He dared to glance at the clock. They were almost at a twenty-three hours since Clint had been taken. Twenty-three hours was a long time to be left with someone who was torturing you. Even twenty-three minutes felt like a lifetime when someone was hurting you. He didn’t want to think about how badly it must all hurt when he looked at the picture that had been scanned in and was displayed digitally in front of him.

“We continue to trace down anyone we can and wait on a phone call.” Steve’s voice was miserable. No one had stopped to sleep, and they would not have eaten except that Pepper had brought in chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans and wouldn’t leave until they had all eaten what she deemed was an acceptable amount. “Have we made any progress on narrowing down locations?”

“We’re down to three different cities.” Bruce pointed to the map. There were three blinking lights, but they were literally spread across the world. Romania, Korea, and Brazil were left. “Anatoly was last in Russia, but we don’t know for sure he’s with Clint, and these are the two other locations that we can trace Agrafena.” She had been traveling to look at products herself all over the world, but plane ticket purchases and flight manifests had tracked these locations down. It had been tricky to sort through the aliases and tricks used to hide their tracks, but Tony’s software was smarter. The chirping noise had heads whipping around to the source. The phone was ringing.

*********************************

The pain hit Clint like hitting the ground after being dropped off a third story as he jolted awake. For the second time, a bucket of water being tossed over his head was what woke him up from unconsciousness. He took a moment to realize he was no longer in the chair but was tied up in an awkward kneeling position on the floor. His arms were tied up above his head again. He swore he could still feel the fire on his chest from the blow torch. He could feel the ghost of the knuckles against his stomach and ribs. He could see the woman’s wicked smile as she rammed her elbow into his face.

“You are filthy.” Anatoly’s voice had a false sweet tone to it that made Clint want to shudder, but he didn’t give in yet. He kept his eyes closed, hoping that Anatoly wouldn’t realize he was faking being asleep. “Oh, I know you’re awake. Your body is tensed up. We need to get you cleaned up.” Clint flinched at the sound of a hose being turned on and then, the piercing, freezing stream hit him full in the face, flaring the pain in his body as he started to shiver. Anatoly took his time, hosing down every last bit of him before yanking off his pants and underwear roughly, leaving Clint naked before him. Anatoly licked his lips as he took in the sight in front of him. “Don’t worry little bird, once you’re clean, I’ll warm you up.” Clint bit his lip to stop himself from protesting as his heart sank. He had to be stronger than Anatoly, just a little bit longer until the others came. His brain already knew what was coming and he knew that in his current state, he wouldn’t be able to get away. God, he really needed the team to hurry up. Anatoly dropped the hose once he was satisfied that he had washed off everything he could, although fresh blood was dripping from the irritated wounds. He was looking at Clint with a hunger in his eyes.

“I’m going to enjoy this.” Anatoly whispered into Clint’s ear as he yanks on the chains so that Clint’s legs are under him again, shaking like a deer just learning to stand. The painful kneeling had left his legs asleep and cramping, but he tried to get them under him. Anatoly tapped his foot against Clint’s legs, nudging them apart, then forcing them apart when Clint struggled to stop him with his legs still half asleep. Clint was surprised by the tears that had sprang up in his eyes from the fact that he knew what was about to happen, but he blinked hard to make them disappear as he steeled himself for the pain he knew was about to come. There was a zipper being pulled down, then a rustle of what Clint assumed had to be a condom. Anatoly’s fucking pants, they really did have everything. He thought wryly, at least he wouldn’t end up with some STI this way. Then, there was a pressure against a place he never wanted anyone to touch. He had never wanted to end up in this position again. The pressure built for a moment inside of him, then pain exploded. It was like Anatoly had shoved that blowtorch straight inside of him and turned it on high. Anatoly gave him no time to adjust before he was shoving in until his hips were flush against Clint. God damn it, Clint thought, this guy had to be hung like a horse as burning pain raced up his entire back. It was the worst pain, overwhelming all of the other tortures his body had endured since being brought to this room.

“You feel so good. You’re so tight.” Anatoly moaned into Clint’s ears as Clint couldn’t stop the full body shudder as Anatoly shoved forward as Clint felt something tearing inside of him and a trickle of blood started down his leg. More tears formed in Clint’s eyes from the excruciating pain of being violated in the worst possible way and he couldn’t stop them from falling this time. The pain was worse than he had remembered it being. It was like being stabbed with a sword in the ass over and over. Everything else that had hurt before this moment dulled compared to this pain. “Oh good, now you’ll be wet.” Anatoly must have felt the blood as he started moving and Clint opened his mouth before strangling off the scream. Anatoly set a brutal pace, slamming in as blood splattered out from him and ran down Clint’s legs in streams, starting to make tiny pools in between his legs. Clint didn’t know how but the pain managed to continue to grow, taking over every sense and leaving him desperately trying to get away from Anatoly. The chains rattled as he tried to get away, tried to get the pain to stop, but he couldn’t get away. Anatoly sped up as he pounded into Clint. Please guys, please, Clint’s inner monologue was simply a begging of someone to come save him. He’d do anything to stop this pain. Oh God, please make this pain stop. He could feel himself tearing wider and deeper and it hurt in a way that there were not words to describe. There was no pain that compared to this. Please, please make it stop.

“Please.” Clint’s voice came out like he’d smoked a thousand cigarettes as he broke in a way he had never done before. “Please, please stop.” He lurched forward with the force of Anatoly’s movements as he begged. Oh God, he was begging. He had never begged before, never, but he just couldn’t take this anymore. He couldn't take the pain. He needed it to stop. Clint needed it get away as his good eye looked around desperately, trying to find something to focus on, as the pain scorched him from inside, more blood dripping. He let more tears fall as he found a spot far away to focus on, and as his body rocked forward with each thrust, the spark in his eyes dulled and he let himself leave the pain behind for a bit as he went far away inside of his head, not sure if he’d ever come back from the place he was taking himself and not sure if he even cared.

*********************************

“I assume you know who I am already, so I will not beat around the bush.” The Russian-accented voice came through the speakers in the room after Tony had hit answer before the first ring had finished. The phone was hooked up to the computer system so that the call would be recorded and tracked if possible. FRIDAY had capabilities beyond the normal tracking systems, so if there was a way to trace the call, she would relay the results back. 

“Give him back.” Tony’s voice came out half-choked before he was able to compose himself. He didn’t even realize how much Clint meant to him before and now, he might not get a chance to talk to him again or tell him just how much he appreciated him. He could feel the burn in his stomach rising fast. 

“You know what I want.” Her voice had a tone like she was talking to a petulant child. It only fueled the fire inside of Tony. He was ready to rip this woman apart inch by inch, making sure she felt every bit of pain before she died. 

“We aren’t giving you any fucking codes.” Tony growled out. “I am going to kill you.” Rhodey stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder. Losing control was not going to help anyone, but all Tony wanted to do was scream. 

“I can’t wait to see you try.” Agrafena’s tone was confident and cocky. “You have twenty-four hours to get the codes together and meet me at the location I will text once I hang up. I will bring him and if the codes work, I will give him back. I am a woman of my words. If the codes work, I’ll give him back.” The phone chirped to signal that she had ended the call. Five seconds later, a beep came in with an address in Italy. Tony brought the address up on the screen and it was a plain looking warehouse. There was nothing special looking about it. Tony swiped and the schematics of the building appeared on everyone’s phone. 

“We need to get to Italy.” Natasha stood up from where had been leaning against the wall. She was trying to play it off as casual, but everyone could see she was shaking. Her and Clint’s relationship was something the rest of the Avengers admired and strived to duplicate, but no matter how much history the rest of them would gain, they would never have the history that Clint and Natasha had. It showed in the way they moved together as one, in how they could communicate without words, and how they seemed to read each other’s minds. 

“What are we supposed to do about the codes?” Steve asked after a second. There was a pregnant pause before the room exploded. There was anger, fear, and pure panic fueling the words being shouted by the various Avengers. They couldn’t just let Clint be tortured or killed, but they couldn’t give up codes that would let millions of people die. Bruce had a streak of green creeping up his neck as he gestured wildly to the picture of Clint on the screen. The thought of Clint being held and tortured was eating them up inside. 

“FRIDAY is going to work to create fake codes that will pass a basic test.” Tony gestured to one of the holographic panels that had a running list of numbers appearing. “They won’t be able to hold up to more than a basic inspection but that might be enough to get Clint back in our arms before we kill them.” He knew that his first option shouldn’t be to just kill, but the phone call he had made to Laura a few hours ago had sealed these assholes fate. She had sobbed into the phone and said to bring him home. She had begged Tony to bring Clint back to her and their kids because they needed their daddy. The words had torn him up inside. It felt like someone was shredding his heart at the thought that Clint might not make it back. After Laura had gathered herself together, her voice had taken on a dangerous tone and she said to make them pay. 

“We can just all be in position to take them all down at once. The codes won’t matter.” Sam gestured with his hands to simulate his point. Natasha shook her head vigorously. 

“We risk Clint getting hurt that way. We need to get him far enough away that we can take them down.” Natasha winced at her word choice belatedly. Clint was _already_ hurt. Clint needed them to make better decisions.

“Let’s get on the jet and we’ll figure it out from there.” Steve commanded everyone and they filed out of the room quickly, solemnly. The jet was taking off less than ten minutes later. Everyone hoped the jet would come back with one more person on it than it had on the way over.

~*~*~*~

Anatoly pulled back one final time, ripping off the condom before finishing on the back of Clint's legs. He smiled as it ran down to his leg, joining the blood. Clint had gone limp in front of him after a pathetic sounding cry for him to stop. He smiled wickedly as he looked at the rivers of blood running down between Clint’s legs. He knew that he would win. He knew he would get what he wanted because he always got what he wanted. He unhooked the chain holding Clint up and let him fall to the floor. Clint collapsed instantly like a sheet caught in a gust of wind, hitting the ground in an uncoordinated pile without making a sound. Anatoly’s smile got wider when he took in the glazed over, wide eyes of Clint. The so-called _superhero_ was checked out. 

“Looks like you broke him.” Agrafena’s face was gleeful as she stepped back into the room. She had had to step out to take care of some business and make sure that the Avengers got her message. She took in the naked man on the floor in front of her before pulling out her phone to snap another picture. There was blood coming from almost every orifice and there was a dead look in his open eye. She made sure to capture that in the picture. His body was coated in bruises, blood, and wounds. He sure made for a very pathetic picture. If the last message didn’t get the Avengers to cave, this one sure would. This would make them give her what she wanted. They wouldn’t be able to resist when she sent them this picture. 

“I always do.” Anatoly shrugged as he turned to leave the room. “I’ll be back in a little bit. Little bird is going to need to rest to collect his strength.” He snickered as the door shut behind him, not bothered to look behind him at the broken Avenger. He already was thinking ahead to what he would do to him when he returned. The man never had stood a chance. Even the strongest fell when he was involved. 

“If you can hear me where you are, just know, that giving me the codes would have been much easier.” Agrafena knelt down so that her lips were only a few millimeters from Clint’s ear. She got up and followed Anatoly out of the room, turning the light off so Clint was left in complete darkness.

~*~*~*~

“Oh no.” Tony’s legs gave out as he sank back in the cushioned chair he was sitting in on the jet. He felt a pang of guilt that he was in a soft, comfortable chair while Clint was tied up and hurt. The picture that had just come through made him feel emotions he didn’t even know existed. The one eye that wasn’t too swollen was dulled. There was no life, no fight in his eye. There was no sparkle. Clint, who was full of fire and sarcasm, had a glossed look to his eye and face that screamed of defeat. It looked like there was no one home behind his eyes. Clint was checked out. The picture was closeup so there was no telling what other damage had been done to him. Tony was one hundred percent sure that this had to be a nightmare and he would wake up shortly. Pepper would shake him awake and hold him while he told her about it before drifting back to sleep. 

“We have to give her something. Oh Clint!” Wanda’s wailed. Her hands were balled up into fists, pressed hard into her mouth to stop from screaming as red flared around her. Tears were running down her face, unashamed of the emotion she was showing. She couldn’t begin to imagine what type of pain Clint was in and he was all alone. He didn't deserve any pain, but to suffer alone like that brought back memories she had tried to compartmentalize in a place she never planned to touch again.

“FRIDAY has the fake codes ready to go.” Tony’s fingers flew over the keyboards to see what FRIDAY had put together. FRIDAY would never let him down. He started to double check through them and run fake scenarios so they could be as prepared as possible when they landed. Bruce got up from where he was sitting next to Natasha to peek over Tony’s shoulder. The codes would convince the machines for a few minutes but there was only so much depth to them. 

“We need to have a better game plan than we grab Clint and fire.” Steve spoke up as he looked at the picture of Clint. His heart shattered at how badly Clint must be hurt to have checked out like that. The first half of the jet ride had been quiet with everyone lost in their own thoughts. “We’ll make two teams. Sam, you’ll be up top to be our eyes.” Steve had to take a deep breath since that would normally be Clint’s job. Clint was the one to call out patterns while on missions. “Natasha will grab Clint and take him back to the jet. Bruce, you’ll be here on the jet, but be prepared in case of a code green. Wanda, you’ll be on the lookout in case of any type of explosion and divert. Vision, you can take down any possible threats in the sky. Rhodey will be with me and Tony as we make the exchange for Clint.” Steve made eye contact with each member as he gave instructions. They had to keep their heads on as straight as possible for Clint. The rest of the ride was filled with more silence as they headed towards what they hoped would be an easy rescue mission. They would not be leaving without Clint. 

~*~*~*~*~

Awareness came back to Clint like he’d been hit by a truck as he took a deep, shuddering breath. The pain was excruciating and he immediately regretted coming back to awareness. His whole body felt like it was being ripped apart, nerve by nerve. The worst of the pain was currently radiating from his backside up into his back and down his legs and he allowed himself a tiny whimper when he remembered what had been happening before he checked out. He knew the wetness between his legs was blood, even though the darkness wouldn’t allow him to see it. His heart splintered when he realized he was still in this God forsaken place. His team hadn’t come for him. Were they going to come for him? Were they even looking? Everything hurt so bad. He shivered as he choked back a sob. His body simultaneously freezing and burning. Was he running a fever? Could an infection set in this quickly? It was so cold in here and he would kill for a blanket, or was he hot? He wished he had some cold water. Oh God, he was in so much pain. 

“Where are you guys?” Clint’s voice was wrecked as he mused out loud. He had really thought they would be here for him now. Were his eyes open or closed? Was it just this dark in the room? Were the others not coming for him? Did Laura miss him? Oh my God, he would kill to kiss his kids one more time. Had everyone just forgotten about him? Was he really that disposable? Was anyone coming for him? Who would even come for him? He was struggling to bring faces back into focus. It was so dark here. His body hurt so bad. He wasn’t even sure he could tell what was up and down. Where was he again? His eye rolled up and he passed out before another thought came through. 


	5. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so so so sorry this took me so long to get up. been a rough few weeks of trying to get my life back in some semblance of normal!

Clint was positive he was going to die at this point, all alone, in this pitch-black room. He was either going to bleed out or die from whatever infection was raging through his body. He was dying and it was just a matter of time before he was gone. He wondered if the others would even bother coming to retrieve his body. He was burning up. It felt like his skin was actually on fire. He had convinced himself that the other Avengers were not coming for him. They had written him off and left him for dead. He couldn’t even blame them; archers were a dime a dozen. He wasn’t a superspy or a super soldier and didn’t have any special powers so he replaceable. He was mostly surprised that Natasha hadn’t come for him, but maybe she was on another mission or maybe she just didn’t care either.

He wished he could at least say goodbye to his wife and kids. He was beginning to struggle to picture their faces or remember their voices, as his fever continued to soar higher. The fever had come on so suddenly and it had left his whole body trembling as it continued to climb higher. There weren’t words to describe the pain radiating through every nerve in his body. He wanted to keep fighting to stay here but he wanted the pain to stop. He knew he had a serious infection. He wondered if he was septic. A shiver broke through the shaking. He was so cold. He gasped for air as he tried to gather a coherent thought. He realized it would most likely be his final thought. 

“No.” He whimpered as his stomach twisted and he dry heaved. More pain erupted through his beaten body. The motion brought tears to his eyes. He didn’t have anything in his stomach to throw up, but his body was betraying him. He dry heaved again, gagging as a tiny bit of bile made its way out. His body was shutting down. He just hoped it’d be over soon. He didn’t even think he could make a fist as the control over his own body was fleeing. The pain radiating up from his backside was the worst of all, and he wondered what Laura would think of knowing what he had let happen to himself. He hadn’t even tried to fight back. It was so hot in here. Had someone turned up the heat? It was like being in the middle of the desert with the sun directly on him. 

“You’re so pathetic.” Anatoly’s voice broke through as the door swung open, bringing in a bright ray of light before he flipped the switch to turn the light on. Clint flinched, unable to suppress his whimper. He blinked, trying to bring the man into focus but his good eye refused. Anatoly’s face leered down at him, swimming around as he gloated at the archer’s pain and suffering.

“It’s time to move.” Anatoly knelt down next to him. Clint internally started to panic. He didn’t even know how it was possible to panic more than he was, but somehow, he was even more panicked. Where were they going? He wasn’t sure he could even get up. Which way was up? “On your feet, birdbrain.” Clint felt his stomach lurch again at the familiar nickname, forever tainted by this man. Clint let out a guttural scream of agony when he was yanked up. He didn’t think it was possible to hurt more than he had been but somehow, it was worse. He felt his eye started to roll back again but a sharp slap to his face brought him back to awareness. The slap came from a warm hand that almost felt nice against his freezing body. The slap was the closest thing to a nice touch he had had since he had gotten here, and he hated himself for relishing it, but in his final moments, he couldn’t help himself. 

“Please.” Clint was beyond broken as a tear ran down his cheek, leaving a path in the blood stained on his face. He was not even trying to hold back his whimpers as his knees gave out. He didn’t care he was begging. He hoped Laura and the kids would forgive him for not coming back to them and for being so pathetic he just gave up. He just couldn’t fight anymore. He just wanted Anatoly to leave him here so he could die in as much peace as he could in his final moments.

“Please.” He repeated when Anatoly jerked him up again. Please, please let the pain end. Please, please, Clint pleaded in his own mind, unable to get the words out. He had fought so hard and for so long, but the pain was too much. His body was screaming at him to stop. Anatoly grunted as he slung Clint up over his shoulder. Clint bucked once from the agonizing surge of pain as the wounds on his chest were reopened, blood seeping into Anatoly’s shirt. 

“I liked this shirt.” Anatoly grumbled as he walked to the door. Clint had dreamed of walking through that door and here he was, getting his wish. Anatoly carried him down the hall. Clint couldn’t even protest anymore as he drifted away again, letting himself escape from the pain into the realm of dissociation. He could only hope he wasn’t coming back this time. 

~*~*~*~

“You have the codes. Where is Clint.” Tony demanded, tapping his foot impatiently with his arms crossed over his chest. His heart was beating so hard, he was afraid it might come out of his damn chest. He wanted to sprint through the building, screaming for Clint until he found him. He was already upset that Clint wasn’t in the room when they got here. He was desperate to lay eyes on the archer. He could practically cut the tension and anxiety radiating off the other Avengers that were with him. He could hear the short, quick breaths of the others surrounding the building in his comm unit. Everyone was on edge, waiting for Clint. They would not leave this place until Clint was with them. 

“Are you sure you want him back?” Agrafena sneered at them as she watched the codes light up on the screen before her. She couldn’t believe that they had actually surrendered the codes. She was going to be the queen of the world with the power she would have with these codes. She couldn’t believe they had valued one worthless person’s life over these codes. “He’s very pathetic.” 

“No, he is not. _You_ are pathetic. Clint is one of the strongest people out there.” Tony retorted back, taking a step forward before Steve laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He could feel Steve’s hand trembling. A door flung open and it was like time stopped as Tony felt his heart drop even lower than he thought possible. Clint looked dead. He was draped across Anatoly’s shoulder, his arms hanging limply above his head as his head flopped around with each step. There was blood all over him. It was worse than what Tony had feared. Was he dead? Clint’s body looked like it had been fed through a wood-chipper. Was that a tear track on his face? Oh my God, this man had made Clint cry. Tony was going to enjoy ending him. Tony had to tune out what was happening in his comm unit. 

“Clint!” Steve couldn’t help but cry out as he took in the sight of the naked archer. They hadn’t even covered him up. He felt a fire rising inside him at the indignity and pain that Clint had suffered. Clint’s face was a mangled mess and oh God, the blood smeared coming from between his legs left nothing to the imagination of what had happened. Steve’s vision went red. Clint didn’t even twitch when Steve shouted his name and that scared Steve.

“Keep it together for another minute guys. Once Clint is in Natasha’s care, we finish them.” Sam tried to keep the tremor out of his voice but failed. He wanted to rip Anatoly’s head off of his body but that would be too quick of an end. He wanted to see every finger ripped from his body and his skin flayed off while he screamed for them to stop. Sam was not normally a murderous type but seeing his friend and fellow Avenger’s body so brutalized was bringing out the worst side of him. 

Anatoly carelessly slung Clint to the ground at Tony, Steve, Natasha and Rhodey’s feet, not caring about the crack that echoed through the room when Clint’s head made contact with the floor. Wanda screamed in the comm unit. Everyone was shouting, their voices overlapping in anger, sadness, and fear. Clint took a shuddering gasp as he regained consciousness, his body shaking from fever and pain as his eye wheeled around in desperation. 

Clint gasped as his good eye finally landed on Natasha. Her flash of red hair screamed of familiarity and safety, but was she really here? Or was he still trapped in that room, dying and hallucinating. Oh God, had they actually come for him? Did he dare get his hopes up? Was he just dreaming this so that he didn’t feel like he was going to die alone? He shakily held up his right hand towards her, terrified that it was just all a mirage. 

“We’re here. We are going to get you help.” Natasha hit the ground next to him so fast that she had a feeling she would have bruises, not that she cared. No one would ever mention the tears that rolled down her cheeks as she took in the bloody mess across Clint’s face and chest. The horror and pain reflected in the eye that wasn’t swollen shut would haunt her nightmares for years to come. She latched onto his hand with both of hers, holding his hand up to her face so he could feel that she was here. 

“You came?” Clint moaned in surprise, his eyebrow furrowing. He wasn’t alone. His friends, his family, had come for him. He could go now. "Let me go." He didn't have to fight anymore now that Natasha was here to help him over. There would be no more pain and all he had to do was close his eye again. It would be over. No more pain, just peace, but if they were here, he might be able to go home. Maybe he _could_ see Laura and his sweet children again. He could fight. He could do this. He forced his eye back open. 

“No!” Natasha screamed as she gently pressed one of her hands to Clint’s face, hoping to ground him to her. Clint was not one to just give up as he locked his eye on hers. Under her hand, she could feel that he was burning up. “You don’t get to give up now.” She ordered Clint. He gave her a tiny nod that he heard her. He had been so close to gone but he just needed to hang on a little bit longer. Natasha whispered a curse in Russian as Steve knelt down to pull Clint into his arms. He tried to ignore the flinch Clint couldn’t suppress when Steve touched him. Steve could feel the heat radiating off of Clint. Steve could feel himself starting to sweat from the amount of heat. That was terrifying in itself, making Steve imagine just how Clint’s fever must be. 

“We’re going to get you to the jet. Bruce is waiting.” Steve tried to soothe Clint as he tried to jostle him as little as possible. He could tell from the grunts escaping from Clint that every step he took caused him more pain. “You’re going to be okay.” Clint’s eye fluttered closed a few times but he kept jolting and opening his eye again, determined to stay with Steve and Natasha. Natasha kept up with Steve’s brisk pace, muttering to Clint in Russian as they rushed towards the jet. Bruce had a stretcher and a huge cart of medical supplies inside the walkway, prepared for their arrival. 

“Oh my God.” Bruce had heard over the comm unit that Clint was in bad shape but seeing him in person was worse than he thought it could be. There was greenish, red vomit staining his chin and one side of his face was a bruised, swollen mess. One of his eyes was swallowed by the swelling. His chest looked like it was melting away with bruising around his stomach area. He had to swallow down his anger as his gaze went lower and he saw the bloody fleshy ends of fingers where fingernails were supposed to be, but when he looked a little over, he truly had to focus so he didn’t turn green. There was blood from between his legs and Bruce knew exactly what that meant. It was like being punched by the Hulk in the gut. 

“Don’t Hulk out.” Natasha reached out and patted Bruce’s chest to try to ground him. She wanted to go crazy too, but they had to focus here on Clint. Clint needed their help immediately. She had grabbed Clint’s good hand again and was rubbing her thumb over the back of it to try to provide some comfort to him. She could barely stand to look at Clint, but he deserved her to keep looking. His body was in so much pain. Natasha had pulled Clint from some bad situations before, but this was the worst she had ever seen.

“Don’t leave me.” Clint hated how weak his voice was, but he wasn’t sure he could handle being left alone again. His breathing had deteriorated into desperate shallow gasps for air. A mask was placed over his face and he whimpered for a minute before realizing that it was there to help him. His head lolled to the side as he looked at Natasha. Was this the last thing he’d see? His best friend was here. He hadn’t been forgotten. They hadn’t left him. He wasn’t alone but his body was on its last leg, the final straw. Natasha risked another glance over of Clint’s battered body and she had to push the thought out of her head that they were still too late to save him. 

“Never.” Natasha’s voice cracked as she brushed Clint’s hair out of his face. The deadened look in his eye terrified her. He was not just one foot in the grave, but the vast majority of his body seemed to be in the grave. Was he beyond help? No, she couldn’t think that way. Clint was the strongest of them all. He was a fighter. The words Clint had uttered in the warehouse, _let me go,_ rattled through her body. Never, she would never leave him. She’d spend the rest of forever making him understand that if he came through this. Bruce handed a pulse and oxygen monitoring device over to Natasha, who slid it on one of Clint’s good fingers. The numbers that popped up on the monitor were not promising. Clint’s body was failing fast. Bruce injected a needle full of pain medication and antibiotics into Clint’s side. Dr. Cho had instructed him on how much to give. 

“This isn’t going to feel good. We need to get this blood washed off so that we can see the wounds. Dr. Cho said that’s the best thing to start with. Bruce said after listening for a minute. He might be a doctor, but his degree was not medical, and he was so very far out of his depth here. Dr. Cho was coaching Bruce through his comm unit. Bruce grabbed the saline bottles and started in on Clint’s face. When he got closer, he realized that the green was wasabi. “The son of a bitch made him eat wasabi!” He exclaimed angrily. Clint’s eye was still looking at Natasha, but he shook his head. He wished he had only been made to eat it. He used to love eating spicy food. 

“Tooth.” It was the only word that Clint could get out before Bruce slammed a fist down next to him, making him flinch. No, that bastard had pulled out Clint’s tooth and then, put wasabi in his mouth? That was beyond evil. Who the Hell thought up stuff like this? Clint did not deserve any of this. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Bruce felt guilty he made Clint flinch but every time he thought this wasn’t getting any worse, it just did. He went back to wiping the blood away from around the oxygen mask. He wanted to get his whole face but with his low oxygen levels, he didn’t want to deprive him. He got Steve started on Clint’s hand while he looked closer at his chest. Clint cried out as to pull his hand away from Steve, but he was too weak, and Steve was strong. Steve glanced at Clint’s chest and it made him physically ache. 

Bruce started speaking quieter, talking to Dr. Cho, before pulling over a video device so she could see. “She said to clean these and cover with a sterile dressing. Not much we can do on the plane. She said the cradle can take care of them once we’re back.” He relayed the message. “This is going to hurt too. I’m really sorry.” Bruce apologized again before letting the saline pour onto Clint’s mangled chest. The reaction was immediate. Clint’s back arched off the table as he let out a guttural scream that the three in the room felt all the way to their core. Bruce had to force himself to continue, wiping away to reveal the sickening burns underneath. 

“Help!” Clint screamed and shook his head from side to side as he fought to get away from them, flashing back to when Anatoly had held the blowtorch to him. Was anyone coming for him? He hurt so badly. No more pain. No more pain. Please, please, stop the pain. He kicked his legs feebly, but he was too weak to truly fight back. No one commented on the tears that were falling from all three Avengers eyes. It was a certain type of torture to be the one inflicting pain on someone already in pain, even if it was to help him. 

“I know, I know.” Steve’s voice was rough with emotion, but he didn’t stop cleaning Clint's fingers. The faster he kept working, the faster he was done. “We’re trying to help Barton. I promise.” He wrapped the finger carefully but quickly before moving on. Blood immediately soaked through the dressing but at least he had cleaned them out. Bruce laid down the dressing as gently as he could against Clint's chest, but Clint still bucked again and moaned. Bruce felt so guilty. Natasha continued to talk to Clint in Russian. Steve and Bruce had no idea what she was saying but it seemed to be providing a little bit of relief to Clint. 

“I need to clean, um, everywhere.” Bruce gestured. They knew exactly what he meant by that statement. “Clint, I just, I need to clean you up a little bit.” He wasn’t sure that Clint was with them enough to understand him. He didn’t want to waste any time, so he poured the saline and started to wipe away the blood from Clint's legs. His fingers shook when he realized it was not just blood he was wiping away. Natasha's face was a mixture of horror and grief when she looked briefly, but turned back to focus on keeping Clint as distracted as possible. Clint’s eye snapped wide open and tears started to fall. Clint's reaction brought vomit racing up Bruce’s throat. 

“No!” He whimpered as he tried to break out of Natasha and Steve’s grasp. Natasha had tightened her grip on his hand, anticipating, while Steve was trying to stop the archer from hurting his other hand more. He jerked at their grasps. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t. I can’t do it again. Please!” 

“It’s just Bruce cleaning you. I promise.” Natasha tried to get Clint to make eye contact with her, but he was tossing and turning, fresh blood leaking from his wounds. She would do anything to spare him the pain and the nightmares. She knew Clint had been here before and so had she. The memories that remained after an assault were almost as bad as the actual assault. Between the injuries and the fever, Clint was completely delusional. He was trapped in a mind and body that was failing him. 

“Please, please. It hurts too much. I can’t. Please. Stop. No.” Clint continued to beg, unable to escape the memory holding him hostage. He begged to the three around him, unaware anymore that they were actually his teammates. In his mind, all he could see was Anatoly. Anatoly was getting him ready and he was going to hurt him again. He was all alone and he couldn’t get away. It was going to hurt so bad and Clint didn't know if he could take it. Steve let out a mournful sob as he continued to have to hold Clint down. 

“I’m not going to do _that_ to you, Clint. I would never hurt you.” Bruce hated himself for lying. He was hurting Clint right now, but he would _never_ do something like that monster had done to Clint. The Hulk inside him roared. Clint was an ally and the Hulk was angry. Bruce very gently nudged Clint’s leg apart to see if he could get a better look at the damage. He didn’t realize that it was going to trigger an even worse response in Clint. Clint choked on his next whimper, knowing he couldn’t fight what was about to happen next. Clint had resigned himself to the fact that Anatoly was going to rape him again and he knew it was going to be excruciating. He found his spot on a far-away wall again. He needed to disappear. He was such a weakling for hiding, but he couldn’t be here. His body was in too much agony to handle a second round. He thought about the red hair he must have imagined, the familiar deep voice of Steve, and the soft touch of Bruce before his body went limp and he was hiding. 

“What did you do?!” Tony’s voice was high pitched and angry as he came sprinting up beside the others. “What happened?” He wanted to touch the archer, but Clint's one good eye had that same lack of light to it that the picture had. It was like no one was home. Clint’s eye was focused on something that no one else could see and it was obvious that he was not here with them, at least in the mental sense. He got his second look at the archer and it was somehow worse than the first. Even though most of the blood was gone, there was gauze covering Clint’s chest and hand. His beaten face looked so painful and Tony wanted to take it away. He had the reputation of being a playboy and a jerk, but when it came to someone he genuinely cared about, he wore his heart on his sleeve. 

“He just, he checked out.” Steve gestured, trying to wipe away a few of the tears from his eyes. Steve felt the jet start to take off, assuming that Sam was at the wheel. Wanda came and knelt by Clint’s head, not wanting to touch him. Bruce grabbed a blanket to cover Clint. Dr. Cho said they needed to monitor him until they made it back. The cradle would heal his physical injuries. The mental injuries would require a lot more work and were beyond even her scope. 

“What do we do now?” Wanda’s eyes shone with unshed tears as she looked up at the older adults around her. Clint’s mind was storming inside. She could feel the pain and fear radiating out from him. She wouldn't dare dive into his mind. She wasn't sure she could handle seeing how the injuries had been inflicted. She knew she didn't want to be inside of Clint's mind when he was assaulted. 

“We be here for him when he wakes up. We make sure he knows he’s safe.” Natasha said after no one else answered. No one seemed to know what to say. There was no right thing to say. There was no right way to handle what happened next. “The best thing is to remember that we got him back. We will be there for him, every step of the way. We will not stop fighting for him until he’s back fighting by our sides.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a hot minute since i updated, sorry about that. it's been thing after thing going wrong in my life and i haven't had enough time to update. i hope you guys still are out there, reading!

The Quinjet was eerily silent. It wasn’t normally quiet on the way back from a successful mission. People chattered with each other or joked around but there was none of that today. Everyone had their focus on Clint. His good eye was dull and blinking every so often but focused on something beyond anyone else’s reach. It was obvious he had used dissociation to escape some of the excruciatingly painful reality he had been forced to live through over the past few days. No one had been able to bring him back to them, not for lack of trying. Looking at him made them all nauseated thinking of the panic, fear, and pain he must have been in and continued to be in. 

Wanda wanted to scream at the fact that Clint thought they had left him; news Natasha had shared once they got off the ground. She wanted to shake Clint and tell him that she would never leave him, and she wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him. She wanted him to know just how ridiculous it was that someone so valuable to the team would ever just be written off. Clint’s whole body shook with fine tremors of pain and he was covered in sweat from the fever. Natasha swallowed her nausea as she continued to stare at Clint. 

“His fever is so high.” Bruce muttered under his breath, worry written over his face. The antibiotics that he had given Clint didn’t seem to have touched the fever, but Dr. Cho said he couldn’t have any more. Clint would just have to hold on for the Cradle as the Quinjet sped towards New York and the safety of the Compound. The sporadic gasps Clint had started making in the last thirty minutes had them holding their own breath, terrified Clint wasn’t going to make it. 

"We're here." Wanda murmured quietly. She had been wracking her brain for how she could help Clint but she felt it would betray him if she entered his mind without his permission. 

“Just a little longer, Clint.” Natasha pleaded quietly. They were so Goddamn close to getting him back to the health professionals that could fix him. He just had to hold on for a little bit longer. She had not let go of Clint’s hand, rubbing little circles over it as she looked at his bruised and swollen face. Her hand was dripping sweat from the intense heat that Clint was putting off, but she refused to let go. The thought that the archer might drift away in front of them was causing her to internally panic. They had worked so hard to find Clint. They had gotten him back. It simply could not be too late for him. Not when he was right here in front of them. “Please, hang on ястреб.” 

“Come back, birdbrain.” Tony murmured from where he was sitting near Clint, his hands clasped under his chin. No one expected the explosive reaction the second the word birdbrain left Tony’s mouth.

“No!” Clint’s back arched off the table before he was desperately trying to scramble to his feet, shoving weakly against the surprised Avengers. They reacted immediately to push him back down gently but firmly. They had not been prepared for Clint to react at all, much less violently. Blood started leaking through the gauze as he irritated the wounds on his body in his blind panic. He whimpered as he kept trying to fight back against the demons only Clint could see. 

“Clint! Don’t move!” Steve’s voice was commanding but the warble from fear wasn’t lost on anyone. He didn’t know what Clint was seeing, but it was obviously not his teammates. “It’s us. You’re safe.” 

“I, please, I can’t.” Clint fought against the others grasp but collapsed back after a few minutes. He hurt too much. It was too much. His body couldn’t handle any more. There was too much pain. His body was in the final stages of failing and couldn’t keep up the struggle for long. His head rolled from side to side lazily as he moaned, not connecting that he was among family. He was desperate for the pain to end. He kept his hands out, trying to shove the others away with shaking hands. The fever wasn’t helping anything. Clint was hallucinating that he was back with Anatoly. “Please, don’t.” He whispered again as his hands dropped back towards the table, the last of the fight in him gone. The look on his face told everyone he had resigned himself to being tortured more. Steve caught his bad hand before it could hit the table and Natasha guided his other hand back down. He whimpered, thinking he was being restrained again. 

“Clint. It’s Natasha. You are safe. We have you.” Natasha touched the side of Clint’s face gently to see if he could see her. His eye was hazy and unfocused, but he blinked a few times and seemed to bring Natasha into focus. 

“Nat’sha.” His voice was slurred as his eye brightened. His struggling came to a halt, other than the constant fever tremor, as he focused on her face. The side of one of his lips turned up in a slight smile with recognition. “You came.” He whispered in a choked, incredulous voice. They were really here. They had come for him. He wasn’t alone. A spark of relief went through him, giving him a millisecond away from the pain before it came rushing back in full force. He gagged before he was spewing vomit inside of the oxygen mask that was still strapped to his face. 

“Shit!” Bruce swore as he ripped the mask off, tossing it out of the way. They carefully rolled Clint on his side as he heaved again. A tear made its way out of Clint’s eye as he dry heaved, pain rippling through every nerve in his body. “You’re going to be okay.” He tried to soothe Clint. Clint’s eye fluttered closed, the last bit of his energy had been spent. 

“We’re almost home. Dr. Cho is waiting. She’ll fix you right up. Just a little longer.” Wanda was rambling but she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stand seeing Clint suffer like this. He did not deserve it. She wanted so badly to take the pain away. 

“Hu’ts.” The world was so slurred, it took the team a minute to realize what Clint had said. His breaths were transitioning into a raspy wheezing. The fact he was telling them it hurt somehow made them all feel worse. After Sokovia, Clint hadn’t uttered a single word about the giant hole blown in his side. He’d been shot, tortured, and beaten before, and to hear him admit something hurt made them all scared. 

“I know, but the Cradle will take that away.” Steve answered. They had maxed Clint out on all of the painkillers that they thought it was safe to give him. Steve had to have faith that Barton could stay with them long enough to get there and then the Cradle would take away his physical pain and heal him on the outside. Barton gave him a sloppy nod before his eye slipped closed. 

“Eyes open. Stay with us.” Natasha ordered. Her voice sharper than normal as she tapped on his hand. She could see how hard Clint struggled to get his eye back open. She felt a pang of pride when he made it happen. He focused his good eye on hers, but Natasha could see just how listless his gaze was. Bruce brought over another oxygen mask to replace the one Clint had vomited into and got it situated over Clint’s face. Clint’s face was so pale. The haunting emptiness in his eye made sure everyone realized just how close Clint was to crossing to a place they wouldn’t be able to get him back from. He was still shaking as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. His body was overwhelmed by the pain and his eye kept drooping more and more. 

“I don’t know how to intubate.” Bruce whispered to Steve. “I, I won’t know how to do it if he needs it.” He wrung his hands together as he watched Clint continue to gasp desperately for air. The numbers on the monitor were worrisome and they were only on a downward trend. He was trying to ignore the blue tinge that was starting to creep up onto Clint’s lips as Clint took shallower and shallower pants of air. Bruce’s suspicion was that Clint was in septic shock and while the Cradle could handle the infection, if Clint died before they got there, there would be nothing to do. 

“We’re almost there. He’s going to make it.” Steve said in a firm tone. Clint was not allowed to die this close to help. He wouldn’t allow it. He glanced outside the window, but it was pitch black. It felt like an eternity had passed since he laid eyes on Clint for the first time in that warehouse. It was a memory he would not ever forget. 

“We’re landing!” Sam’s voice came over the intercom. A collective sigh of relief went up. Clint had survived the flight and was about to be in the hands of the people who could help him. Sam skillfully maneuvered the jet to a smooth landing. Clint let out a tiny moan of relief as he let his eyes close. Natasha opened her mouth to protest, but Dr. Cho and her team were rushing up to get Clint. Dr. Cho gave out commands in Korean to her team as they sprinted off with Clint. The rest of the Avengers followed closely behind. They stopped behind the glass wall, trying to give Dr. Cho the space she needed but they needed to remain close. They watched as Clint was transferred to the Cradle. A full diagnostic report lit up in the air as the Cradle came to life. Dr. Cho’s face showed pure horror for a moment before she gained control back and wiped her face clean. 

“It’s working.” Wanda’s voice had hope in it as she broke the silence, her hands pressed up against the glass. She could see the skin starting to stitch back together around Clint’s eye as the bruising starting to fade. It took almost eight hours of Dr. Cho and her team working furiously before she let her shoulders relax. Clint’s eyes remained closed through it all. It was a horrifyingly satisfying process to watch the damage be undone. Dr. Cho gave a curt nod of approval to Clint’s prone form before coming out to address the team as her medical staff started pulling a gown over Clint. They would be transferring him to a room in the medical bay of the Compound. 

“So, we’ve repaired the significant amount of damage that Clint suffered. I know I don’t have to stress how dangerously close to death he was. If you had gotten here an hour later, he would not have survived. Physically, the Cradle fixed him. I am going to spare you guys from the horrifyingly long list of injuries. The real struggle now is the mental and emotional toll that is left behind. I know you guys are no strangers to what intense trauma does to you, but you will need to be there for him. He’s going to have a long road to recovery.” 

“We won’t leave his side.” Wanda vowed passionately and the rest agreed. They would not let their friend, family member, and teammate ever feel alone. They would support him through recovery, whatever that took. 

“Don’t overcrowd him. Just two of you guys at a time.” Dr. Cho added when everyone started to move towards Clint’s room. Everyone looked to Natasha and Wanda, knowing they needed to be the first. They nodded and walked in silence to Clint’s room. 

“I’m going to call Laura.” Tony spoke up after a few minutes and walked away briskly. No one said anything about the glisten in his eye, because many of them were struggling to hide their own. Tony had held off calling while they were on the Quinjet for fear that Clint might pass while he was on the phone and he wasn’t sure he could handle telling Laura that Clint had died right there. He wanted to wait to update her until they were sure Clint was going to remain alive. 

“We’ve all been up for days. Everyone needs to go and get some rest. We can set up shifts for Clint.” Steve commanded. He could feel the strain of days of not sleeping in his muscles. He wasn’t complaining, especially knowing that Clint had been tortured for those days, but everyone had to take care of themselves, so they weren’t falling out too. 

“I, I don’t know if I can sleep.” Bruce had one arm dangling by his side, with his other hand wrapped around his bicep. The horror of cleaning off blood and other stuff off one of his closest friend’s body was going to keep him up. 

“You should at least try.” Sam chimed in, in a soothing voice as he put a comforting hand on Bruce’s shoulder. Rhodey nodded with his lips pursed before he gave a small wave and headed down the hall. The whir of the machinery around his lower body echoed, even after Rhodey had turned the corner to head to his room. Bruce nodded and left, his gaze on the floor near his feet. Vision drifted back towards the common area of the house, not needing to sleep like the rest. “You told us to get sleep, but you need to take that same advice.” Sam nudged Steve with a shoulder. 

“Yea, I just, might stand watch a little longer.” Steve looked towards the direction that Clint had gone. “Just, you know, make sure he’s safe.” 

“You know he’s safe here.” Sam said quietly. He knew what Steve was saying but they all needed sleep.

“I know.” Steve’s voice was so gentle and soft, Sam almost missed it. Sam could feel the guilt rolling off of Steve. 

“This isn’t on you.” Sam added. Steve just shook his head once sadly. “I know, you’re going to need time to believe that, but this was not on you as a team leader.” 

“Thanks Sam.” Steve said quietly, his gaze still down the hall towards Clint’s room. Steve could feel the adrenaline wearing off, but he wasn’t ready to sleep yet. 

“I’m here for you too.” Sam said before heading down the hall. He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked to his room. He barely felt his head hit his pillow before he was out cold.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>>

Wanda could feel her hands shaking as they got closer to Clint. Her emotions were starting to come to a head. She wanted to lay eyes on Clint more than anything, but she also wanted to run as far away from this room as possible. She had watched the Cradle repair him, but she still could see the bruised, beaten Clint in the Quinjet, barely breathing. 

“He’s strong.” Natasha spoke up, pausing as her hand reached out for the door. It never got any easier to see her partner, best friend, and teammate hurt, but this time had been unlike any other. Wanda wasn’t sure who she wanted to comfort, so she just nodded in agreement. 

“Hey.” Wanda kept her voice low as they walked into the room. The head of the bed was propped up and a blanket was pulled up to Clint’s chest. Clint looked at them, giving them a tiny smile before letting it fall off his face. While the Cradle had healed him, he had an IV in to give him fluids and nourishment. His eyes were still slightly sunken in

“How are you?” Natasha asked as they sat down near Clint. She reached her hand out hesitantly, not wanting to scare him. He instantly latched onto her hand while shrugging in reply. 

“I, I’m glad you’re here, with us.” Wanda blurted out after a few seconds. Clint held out his other hand for her to hold and Wanda had to stop from reaching out too fast. She gratefully grabbed it and the warmth it provided soothed her.

“Are in any pain?” Natasha asked. The Cradle was supposed to take away the injuries, but she still wanted to check in. Clint shook his head. “What about your voice?” She pressed after a few more minutes of quiet. Clint just shrugged again. His eyes still had a deadened look to them. “It’s okay, when you’re ready.” 

“Yes.” Wanda agreed quickly. She didn’t want Clint to feel any pressure to do anything. Healing and recovery were his top priorities right now. Natasha’s phone buzzed in her lap and she looked at it. 

“Laura’s on her way.” Natasha reported once she read the message from Tony. Clint gave another tiny smile at that, even though the thought of her coming flooded him with fear. He wouldn’t blame her if she just came to say that she wanted to be with a real man and walked away forever. He loved her so much, hopefully she’d still let him see his kids. “Why don’t you try to close your eyes until she gets here? Wanda and I will not leave you.” Clint gave a small nod before closing his eyes. Natasha tried not to let her worry flare at his complicity. Clint was not known for giving in to sleep easily, but he had been through a lot, so she tried to believe that was why he went to sleep so fast. It only took a few minutes before the loud exhales gave it away that Clint had fallen asleep. 

<<<<<<>>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>>

Sam startled at the sound of his alarm. He realized he hadn’t even taken his shoes off before he had fallen into bed. He shook his head at himself before getting up to shower and head back towards the medical bay. He wasn’t surprised to see that most of the team had already gathered in the waiting area. There were blankets and coffee cups scattered around the area that implied some of them had come and gone. 

“We made Wanda and Natasha attempt to sleep for a few hours.” Steve spoke up once Sam sat down next to him. “Tony and Bruce are in there.” 

“Good.” Sam answered before falling into a comfortable silence. He wanted to ask if Steve got sleep but the deepening bags under Steve’s eyes told him what he needed to know. Vision was standing in the corner, his hand clasped behind his back. Rhodey was busy on a Starkpad. Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket to check up on the news that they had missed over the past few days.

“Um, I'm looking for Clint?” A woman took a hesitant step into the waiting area. She had her arms tucked under a light brown jacket and a small bookbag slung over one shoulder. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she had obviously been crying.

"Laura!" Steve exclaimed as he leapt to his feet and hurried towards her before hesitating. She opened her mouth to say something, but a high pitch screech of an alarm sent them all into panic mode as Dr. Cho came tearing past towards Clint’s room.


End file.
